


Reach Out and Touch

by SuburbanSun



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Humor, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6089662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuburbanSun/pseuds/SuburbanSun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jemma's out of town and Fitz is stuck at home, they start to miss each other even more than they'd anticipated. </p><p>Lucky for them, there's AT&T.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reach Out and Touch

**Author's Note:**

> An anon on Tumblr requested "fitzsimmons + "This isn’t exactly what I had in mind." please :)" Somehow this came out of that.

“When I said I wanted to do something special on Valentine’s day,” said Fitz, shifting so he held the phone more firmly between his chin and shoulder. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

2,000 miles away, Jemma chuckled into her own phone, pulling the fluffy white hotel comforter tighter around her. “I know. But you know I couldn’t turn down--”

“--the conference you’ve been wanting to present at since the Academy? ‘Course not. I only wish I could have come.”

“You couldn’t have anticipated Coulson would need a consult right before the trip.” She reached for the to-go tea on the bedside table, blowing on it before taking a sip. “Couldn’t have been helped.”

“I guess,” he grumbled. “Still. I wish mysterious, possibly-alien tech wouldn’t appear out of nowhere right when I’m about to spend a weekend in an all-expenses-paid five-star hotel with my incredibly hot girlfriend.”

Jemma hummed appreciatively. “Your incredibly hot girlfriend wishes for that, as well.”

“Mm.” He sighed into the phone. “Sorry I can’t be there with you, Jemma.”

“Me too,” she said softly. For a moment, they were both silent, each with their ear pressed to their phone, together yet so far apart. Then Jemma cleared her throat. “What would you be doing if you were?”

“If I were what?”

She rolled her eyes. “Here with me.”

“Oh, right. Probably sitting on the bed next to you, having this conversation in person, I’d imagine.”

“What then?” she asked, her voice a shade deeper than normal. Fitz began to catch on, sitting up straighter in their bed and moving a hand to hold the phone before it could fall from the crook of his neck.

“Um. Then I’d probably be, um. Maybe giving you a neck massage like you like?”

“Mmm,” she responded throatily. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

“So, um. What, uh. What would you do after that? If I were there, I mean.” Fitz cringed at his own inability to ever be smooth, but it didn’t seem to deter Jemma.

“Well, I’d have to return the favor, wouldn’t I?” She slid a little further down in the cozy hotel bed, nestling her head comfortably into the pile of pillows behind her. “I’d rub your back a bit, avoiding the most ticklish spots--”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

She laughed. “You’re probably right. But still, I’d give you a nice backrub. Of course, you’d have to take off your shirt for it to be ideal.”

“So you could have easy access to _all_ the ticklish spots, no doubt,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it, and she could hear the smile in his voice. She paused.

“Why don’t you take off your shirt now?”

He frowned. “You can’t tickle me from thousands of miles away, you know. Nor see me, for that matter.”

“Facetime’s not a bad idea, actually.”

Fitz made a face. He wasn’t sure he felt fully comfortable edging into the new territory they were heading for, and he knew it would feel even weirder if he could watch himself doing so in a tiny window in the corner of his phone screen. Better to stick to a plain old voice call, he thought. “Next time?”

“Take off your shirt, Fitz.”

He raised his eyebrows, even though she couldn’t see. “Yes, Dr. Simmons,” he said. He only pulled out her credentials in bed when she was on a particularly bossy streak, and even if neither admitted to it, he knew they both got a little thrill out of it. He reached for the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head, dropping the phone to the bed in the process.

“Fitz?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he said quickly, pressing it back against his ear as he sat atop their too-big, too-empty bed wearing only his boxer shorts and a pair of socks.

“And?”

“Shirtless.”

“Good.”

“Turnabout’s fair play, you know.”

It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “Are you asking me to take off my shirt, as well?”

“Fair is fair,” he said breezily, and she had to laugh. She looked down at herself, at her navy button-up pajama top with the little white dots that looked like stars in the night sky. (The matching pajama pants were hidden by the covers.) She supposed it couldn’t hurt.

“Alright, Fitzy. Fair is fair.” She reached up and flicked open the top button, then the one below that, then the one below that, listening to Fitz breathe on the other end of the line. He couldn’t see what she was doing, couldn’t see the creamy strip of skin being revealed inch by inch, yet somehow his breathing seemed to have sped up just a tad, anyway. She sat up once the shirt was completely unbuttoned, letting it fall behind her before pulling it around and folding it up neatly to set on the bed next to her. “There,” she said finally.

“So... you’re topless now, then?” His voice sounded so hopeful that she almost lied.

“No. I have a camisole on. One of the white ones with the lace trim.”

He groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall behind the bed. “Not fair, Jemma.”

“What? You took off an article of clothing, so I did, too.”

“Are we playing strip poker now?”

“Fitz, you can’t even see me. Just pretend I’m naked.”

“No!” His tone was adamant. “That’s cheating. If I can’t be with you, I want to picture you exactly as you are, right this minute.”

Jemma couldn’t fight her smile. “That’s actually quite sweet.”

“I can be that, from time to time.”

“Too true.” Sweet was lovely, but also wasn’t the direction she’d hoped their conversation was headed. “So what would you do next, hmm? After the neck rub?”

Fitz was silent for a moment. “Um… I would, erm. I would kiss your neck. Like at the bottom of it, where it meets your shoulder, in that one spot that makes you--”

“Yes, I know the spot,” she said, a little breathlessly.

“Erm, yeah. I’d kiss you there. Then maybe up your neck to your ear, then back down the other side.”

“Mm. That sounds lovely.”

“Yeah, and then you’d probably let out one of those breathy moans--”

“I do _not_ moan breathily.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm in her ear. “You do, actually. But it’s really hot.”

“Ah,” she allowed, though she still didn’t believe it. “In that case…”

“Yeah, so, I’d kiss you on your neck, and you’d moan, and then I’d--”

She knitted her brow when he didn’t continue. “You’d what, Fitz?”

When he spoke again, his voice was slightly huskier than it had been before. “Sorry, I, um.” He laughed lightly. “I guess this conversation is having its intended effect.”

“What do you mean?”

He huffed. “You know.”

Did she? “Oh! You have an erection?”

Fitz let out a deep sigh, running his free hand through his hair. “Way to pick the least sexy way to point that out, Jemma.”

“You’re hard,” she corrected, and he mumbled his acquiescence. “That’s good,” she said. “Um, I’m starting to feel a bit of arousal, myself.”

“Again, way to pick--”

“You’re turning me on, Fitz. Better?”

He swallowed. “Yep.”

“So what happens after I moan breathily? Which, by the way, I do not do.”

“You do. But, yeah, so, you moan, and then I’d probably pull you in for a real kiss, because a man can only resist for so long.”

Jemma smiled. “A woman can only resist for so long, too. So I’d kiss you back.” With the phone against her left ear, she began to idly trail her right index finger along the lacy neckline of her camisole, slowly back and forth. “Maybe I’d push you back onto the bed, then.” Then she frowned, her hand stilling. “Wait, were we standing up or sitting down? Did we establish a setting?”

“No, Jemma, that’s all beside the point.”

“But I need an accurate picture in my head! And we need to ensure we’re on the same page, so I’m not imagining us kissing on our couch while you’re imagining us kissing, I don’t know, whilst riding a camel, or something.”

He paused. “Why would we be riding a camel? And is it the _same_ camel? Can two people ride one camel?”

“Ugh, Fitz!”

“Fine, fine. We were sitting at the foot of our bed while we were rubbing each other’s backs,” he suggested, flexing his socked feet where they lay at the end of the bed. “So you can push me back on the bed, no problem.”

“Okay, good. So I push you back on the bed, and we’re kissing, and then I-- is it too soon to get on top of you?”

“Never,” he breathed. His hand rested on his abdomen, and he tapped his breastbone a few times with his thumb.

“Alright, then. I’m on top of you-- straddling you,” she corrected.

“And I grab your bum,” he interjected.

“You do?”

He could feel his cheeks start to heat, but what was the point in being embarrassed in this scenario, really? These were things they’d done plenty of times in person. “I really want to.”

She grinned. “Okay. You grab my bum, and-- pull me down against you? Against your, um.”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I um, grind up against you, and Christ, Jemma, it feels really good. You always feel so good to me.”

“Don’t stop kissing me.”

“I won’t.”

For a moment, they both just breathed into the phone.

“It’s getting warm in this hotel room, you know,” said Jemma suddenly.

“You of all people know how arousal works, Jemma. Increased blood flow to all parts of the body can cause one to feel overheated, even--”

She cut him off. “No, I mean-- it’s a bit too warm in this hotel room, so I think I might have to _take off my camisole_.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

That piqued his interest. “Take off your camisole, Jemma,” he said, trying to imbue the phrase with authority. When a little whimper came through the phone line, followed by the rustling of cotton against skin, he made a mental note for later that perhaps Jemma enjoyed being bossed around as much as she enjoyed being bossy herself. “So _now_ are you topless?”

“Mmhmm.” She’d pushed the covers down to her waist, even though she felt a bit silly, lying there shirtless in bed alone.

“God, I wish I could see you right now,” he said softly.

“Tell me what you’d do if you could.”

“I’d flip us over-- wait, you were on top, right?”

“Right.”

“Yeah, so I’d flip us over so I was on top of you, and then I’d-- I’d kiss my way down your chest to your… um.”

“To my what?” she asked in a teasing tone. He huffed out a frustrated breath in response.

“To your tits, to your hard nipples,” he almost growled, and she lost any desire to tease. She took a shaky breath and licked her lips, which seemed to have gone dry.

“So then you’d… you’d use your mouth on them?”

“Mmhmm. Suck one of ‘em into my mouth while I pinch the other between my fingers.”

“Oh.”

“Um, Jemma?”

“Yes?”

He hesitated, even though he had a feeling that she’d be completely on board for what he was about to suggest. “Can you, um. Can you lick the tips of your fingers, and… touch your nipples and pretend it’s my mouth?” He said the last bit in a rush.

She was more than happy to oblige. She sucked the tips of the fingers on her right hand and began to roll one nipple slowly between them, unable to bite back a breathy moan. _Drat_. He’d been right about that, hadn’t he?

“Are you doing it?” he said, voice thick.

“Mmhmm. Feels so nice, Fitz. I wish it was your mouth.”

“Me too, Jemma.”

“Fitz?” She moved her hand to lavish attention on her other nipple, arching up into her own touch. “Are you touching yourself?”

He made a strangled sort of sound in the back of his throat before answering. “Not-- not yet.”

“Mm. You should.” She cleared her throat in hopes it would make her voice sound less breathy. “I want you to touch yourself.”

“Oh fuck,” he muttered under his breath, but immediately slid his hand down his body to rub himself through his boxers. He stroked up and down a few times, letting the heel of his hand graze over the head, and let out another choked sound.

“Good?” she asked. Her fingertips circled one nipple, caressed the sensitive skin at the side of her breast, then started over with the other one.

“Yeah.”

“I wish I was there with you now,” she said, her hand drifting down to lightly stroke her stomach.

“God, me too. What would you do if you were here, Jemma? If you were home with me?”

“I’d-- wait, what position were we in before? Was I on top of you or were you on top of me?”

“Fuck the mental picture, Jemma, just improvise.”

“Okay, okay.” She pushed the covers down further-- it just kept getting hotter in her hotel room. “If I were there, I’d-- I’d kiss my way down your stomach.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“And then I’d pull off your boxers and fold them up--”

“Jemma, come on, now’s not the time for tidiness.”

She paused where her hand was drifting back and forth along the waistband of her pajama pants, frowning. “There’s always time for tidiness, Fitz.”

“Alright, fine, fold ‘em up. Go walk across the room and put ‘em away if you have to. Just get back over here quickly, okay?”

“And do what?”

“And-- and-- and--”

“What do you want me to do to you, Fitz?” she murmured, and he bit back a moan, unable to stop himself from pushing the waistband of his boxers down and letting his cock bounce free. He gave it one quick tug, then another, before answering her.

“I want you to-- I want you to--”

“You can say it, Fitz. You can say anything to me.”

“I want you to suck my cock.”

She shivered, and in one quick movement, arched her bum off the bed and pushed her pajama pants down to her ankles, kicking them off and potentially losing them forever in the lavish bedcovers. Now was not the time for tidiness. “Okay,” she said.

“Okay?”

“I’m going to, um. Kiss the tip first.”

“Nng.”

“And then lick my way down the shaft.”

“Shhii…”

“And then I’m going to suck your balls into my mouth.”

“Holy fuck, Jemma.”

“And then I’m going to slide back up and take your cock all the way into my mouth.” The sounds he made were unintelligible, and Jemma felt drunk with power. Why had they never tried this before, during the few times they’d been apart since they’d taken the next step in their relationship? Hell, why hadn’t they tried this ten years ago? “Fitz? Are you still there?”

“Uh huh,” he breathed, working his hand over his cock at an even quicker pace. Part of his brain, the small part that was still functioning, told him to slow down. He’d hate to leave Jemma high and dry, so to speak. He forced himself to take a deep breath, toning down his movements to gentle stroking. “I want to eat you out now,” he found himself saying, feeling more and more uninhibited as the evening progressed.

“Okay,” she said. Her mouth felt dry, and she wished she had a glass of water rather than a lukewarm cup of tea from the cafe downstairs. “Okay.”

“So… I guess I need to flip us over again, yeah?”

“Fuck the mental picture, Fitz, remember?”

“Right,” he said, smiling a bit at how sexy it was to hear Jemma curse like that. “So I’m gonna push your knees apart and kneel in front of you… or maybe I’m lying on my stomach on the bed?”

“Fitz!”

“Right, right. Your legs are spread in front of me and I’m kissing up the inside of your thighs, maybe nipping a little bit with my teeth-- you like it when I do that, right?” He frowned, feeling as if verbalizing his technique opened it up for criticism.

“Mm, so much.”

He breathed out in relief. “So maybe I nip at your thighs, and you’re-- you’re really wet, aren’t you?”

“Mmhmm.”

“But like, right now, in real life, Jemma, you’re wet, aren’t you?” He cringed at how insecure he sounded, but after all, he’d told her when he’d gotten hard.

“Oh!” She slid her hand down to toy with the tiny bow at the front of her cheerfully pink underwear, slipping it underneath the waistband and down to dip into her wetness. “Very.”

“Good, good. So I-- I’ve got you spread out in front of me and I-- my tongue-- I--”

“Lick my clit, Fitz.”

He swallowed thickly. “Okay. Yeah. I push your thighs apart and lick your clit, over and over again.”

“Yes, please,” she said, letting her fingers mimic his fantasy actions, rubbing the tips of her middle and ring fingers across and around her clit in practiced motions. “Mmm.”

“And then maybe I… reach up with my other hand, and…” He tried to figure out how to word what he wanted to say so that it didn’t sound totally unsexy. “Stick a finger inside you.” He grimaced. That didn’t sound ideal at all.

Still, she didn’t seem to mind, her breath coming fast and hard through the phone as she toyed with her clit, occasionally slipping her fingers down to dip fully inside her. “Fiiitz,” she said, having long ago given up all pretense of not being one to moan breathily.

“God, I want to fuck you right now,” he breathed out, unable to hold it in.

“I want you to,” she said, her voice sounding wild and wanton to her own ears (which, if she were being honest, ratcheted up her arousal even more).

“Gonna--” He reached down, readjusted himself so he had a better grip on his dick, and began to pump in earnest. “Gonna lick your clit one last time, then crawl back up your body and kiss you. Can you taste yourself on my tongue?”

“Mmm, yes.” She withdrew her hand from her clit for long enough to shove her underwear down and off, so she was completely naked in the middle of the all-white hotel bed. She imagined she presented quite the picture, and wished that Fitz could see her like that, could watch her touch herself to the sound of his voice. _Facetime next trip for sure,_ she thought.

“So good. I’m gonna get a condom out of the drawer, and--”

“Nng, Fitz, this is fantasy sex! We don’t need a condom.”

“I’m just trying to maintain safe sex habits, Jemma, is that such a problem?”

“Not in _real life_ , but--”

“Fine, no condom this time.” He was all for safe sex, but had to admit that the idea made his cock throb and his mind race.

“It’s imaginary sex, Fitz, it’ll be fine.” As she said it, she shut her eyes. With his voice warm in her ear and her hands on her own body, it didn’t _feel_ imaginary.

“Right. So strike that, then. I’m gonna lay between your legs--”

“I want to be on top.”

“Fine, get on top.”

“I am!”

“Okay, so you’re straddling me.”

“And I grasp your cock in one hand--”

“My cock is _so_ hard right now, baby,” he said, stroking his thumb over the head to spread around the beads of precum.

“Mm, you only call me baby when you’re getting close.”

“Do not,” he said, though he knew it was true.

“It’s okay,” she said, breathing hard. She circled her clit again and again, keeping her feet planted on the bed so she could push up against her fingertips. “I’m getting close, too.”

“Better hurry, then.”

“I’m gonna sink down onto your cock ‘til it’s all the way in, do you feel it?”

“Uh huh.” He gripped himself tightly. “I feel you, baby.”

“Then I’m gonna push up ‘til it’s almost all the way out, and then sink down on it again and again.” She pushed two fingers inside of her, thumbing at her clit and writhing against the sheets.

“God, you feel so good.”

“You feel so good, too.”

“I love fucking you, Jemma. I want to fuck you forever and ever.”

“Me too, Fitz.”

“Fuck.”

“Nng.”

For a few moments, they were silent, the sounds of their heavy breathing and skin against slick skin filling the air. Fitz felt a tightening that signaled he was so close, and swiped his thumb over the head of his cock once, twice, then let go, finding his release with a long, stuttered groan.

“Did you--?” Jemma breathed, still rhythmically rubbing at her clit, hips arching off the bed on each downstroke.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Are you--”

“Yeah,” she said, focusing entirely on the sensations she was coaxing out of her body and the sound of his heavy breathing. A whimper escaped her throat as she felt herself get closer, and closer, and closer, and then she coasted over the edge, body pulsing with pleasure.

A few moments passed before either one of them spoke again, as they both lay in their respective beds, phones pressed to opposite ears and heartbeats slowing back to normal.

“Jemma?”

“Yeah?” She turned her head to the side, phone trapped between her face and the pillow, voice low and satisfied.

“Next time you’ve got a conference to go to…”

“Yeah?”

“Obviously it’s better if I can go with you, but… if I can’t… this is a nice consolation prize.”

She chuckled, and he pressed the phone closer to his ear, letting the sound wash over him. In his sated and boneless state, it sounded just like home.

“I agree wholeheartedly.”

He grinned. “Good.”

“But Fitz?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m going to see if I can get on an earlier flight tomorrow. There are a few things from this phone conversation we may need to… reenact in person. As soon as possible.”

**Author's Note:**

> Want to hang out on Tumblr? I'm unbreakablejemmasimmons over there!


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